A Mixture of Insanity and Perfection
by Ryunn Kazan
Summary: She wasn't in this alone-Rumpel wasn't here, and Jefferson would never truly be, but at least she had him, her beautiful mix of insanity and perfection. Jumbelle
1. Maddening

_Love…_

_Makes us sick._

_Makes us do crazy things._

_Makes us hurt the ones we love most._

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_She's as radiant as ever._ Mr. Gold thought as he watched Belle turn a page of the novel in her hands. It was a warm spring day in Storybrook, utterly perfect weather for the orange sundress Belle French Hatter was attired in. She was finishing off a glass of lemonade, licking the sour liquid off her lips as she closed her worn copy of _Rosebush_ and attempted the nearly impossible task of standing up.

Ruby Lucas shot out of the restaurant and was at Belle's side in a second, both girls laughing as Belle was hauled to her feet, a hand steadying her belly which was swollen due to her six month pregnancy. The girls continued with their laugh-filled conversation before Ruby was barked back into the restaurant by her grandmother. Waving her off, Belle waddled down the street, looking at the sights while heading towards her destination.

Mr. Gold gulped and decided that this was his only chance. Setting up his best pleasant demeanor, he strolled over to where Belle had paused.

"Mrs. French!" Gold greeted loudly, "I do believe the sun and you are in a contest, with you smiling so brightly like you are."

Belle giggled and flashed him that sunshine he was so entranced on seeing. "Good afternoon to you as well, Mr. Gold." She said, giving a best bow she could in her condition. She sighed. "However, it's Mrs. Hatter now."

Mr. Gold nodded, a twisting feeling engulfing his stomach. "Ah yes, and how is this husband of yours?"She laughed, but Mr. Gold caught an uncertainty in her shaky chuckle.

"He's…he's great. He's great, really."

"But?" Mr. Gold pressed. He caught himself instantly. "My apologies, I don't mean to pry."

Belle shook her head. "You're doing nothing of the sort." She led him to a bench in front of the hardware store where they sat down. She soothed her dress over her belly and hummed, searching for the words to describe her husband. "He's a great man, gentle, patient, all the works." Belle stated positively. "However, there's…there's something dark inside of him. There always has been, but he's kept it so well-hidden until just recently."

Mr. Gold griped his cane until his knuckles were bright pink. "Has he…has he hurt you Mrs. Hatter?" He hissed lowly.

Belle shook her head. "Of course not." She said coldly. "Only cowards hurt their wives and family. I was just implying that he's been different, more protective and quiet." her hand gripped her stomach, "Especially when he started coming along."

"He?"

Belle smiled. "Yes. Jefferson wants a girl so badly he can taste it, but," she shrugged, "Mother's intuition is telling me he's going to be just a little disappointed."

Mr. Gold chuckled but felt an unnerving doom rising for Belle. Jefferson was using her. He was using **his **Belle! And for what, a replacement for the child he would never get back? That was setting up a loveless relationship in which Belle would be devastated.

Belle hissed suddenly.

"Are you alright?" Gold gasped.

She laughed at his shock. "Yes, calm down." She ran a hand over her belly in a circular motion, as if trying to sooth the being inside her. "Someone's just a bit restless." She looked up at him. "Would you like to feel?"

Mr. Gold gulped. He hadn't felt a baby while it was still in its incubator since his own son, and that was too vague a memory for him to go with. "I, um…"

Belle rolled her eyes at his hesitance and grabbed his hand, placing it over her bulge.

He held his breath as the being inside Belle harassed her from the inside. He wondered right then how this thing, this mixture of insanity and perfection could actually be someone. Belle would love it as a good mother should, no matter whose child she had. Jefferson however…

Gold shuddered at the thought. If Jefferson snapped, Belle and her child would be in his sea of unstableness. His experience with Grace, or Paige as she was currently known as wasn't exactly a great example for him to go by. He would walk through fire before he'd let anything happen to them.

"He's strong." Gold commented. He met Belle's eyes and for just that moment, there was that look of undying adoration and recognition that told him that this was the Belle he loved with every fiber of his being. He would like to pretend that she had his child inside her, that they were truly a family and had a world of happiness ahead of them.

But then the door to the hardware store shot open and that fantasy burned into ashes.

"Belle darling I have done it! I have found the perfect shade of peach for-"

Belle swapped Gold's hand off her belly and put some space between them. "Um, hi honey? You remember Mr. Gold from the wedding, right?"

Jefferson's and Gold's eyes locked on each other, hating each other over the pregnant girl who stood between them like a brick wall. Jefferson's lip twitch and he held a hand out to the counterpart of the Dark One. "Mr. Gold, how are you?"

Mr. Gold reached his hand out and grasped the offered one, forcing his own smirk. "Positively glowing, thank you."

Both of their hands were stinging and swollen when they pulled away and at least one of them had popped something out of place. There could never be anything but distaste and malice between them. They had taken something precious from each other, something that was never going to be regained at this point in their lives.

Belle cleared her throat to and pressed a hand to Jefferson's arm, trying to ease the tension between them. "You were, um, saying something."

Jefferson's stormy expression broke and he smiled as he pulled out a small paint card. "I found the perfect shade of peach for Gracia's room."

Belle shot a quick _"I told you so"_ look to Mr. Gold before studying the card. "It's perfect Jefferson." She stated, leaning up to give him an affectionate peck on the cheek.

He smiled proudly. "Yes, well, I love you, so I want to make you happy." His eyes were on Gold when he said this, not Belle.

"You son of a bitch."

Belle's head shot up. "What was that Mr. Gold?"

He smirked. "Oh nothing, dearie. I was just agreeing with your hubby here." His eyes narrowed at the hatter. "You should keep the people you love happy, which means** freeing** them from things that make them completely miserable. Isn't that what you insinuated, Mr. Hatter?"

Jefferson twitched, his smirk causing his teeth to gnash together. "Yes, yes it was. But I was also implying that if you love someone, you need to protect them from those who could hurt them easily." He wrapped an arm around the confused Belle's waist and pulled her close. "And I'm protecting for two now."

If Belle hadn't been the intermediate between them, Jefferson and Mr. Gold would have been on the ground beating the Hell out of each other.

"Indeed." Gold growled, his aching hands denting the steel of his cane head.

Jefferson smirked satisfyingly. "Come now Belle," he stated, "Let's get you home and let you two get's some rest." He ran his over her belly possessively, grinding Mr. Gold's face in to the truth.

Belle nodded. "Yes. Would you cool off the car while I say goodbye to Mr. Gold here?"

"Of course." Jefferson agreed with a curt smile as he whistled his way to the car.

Mr. Gold wondered if he tripped him if he would fall and break his neck. He never was a lucky man.

"Sorry." Belle apologized out of the blue. "He's been like that lately."

Mr. Gold smiled in reassurance. "He's protecting the two things that mean the most to him. Even I can understand his sour mood." It was a partial truth, but wholeheartedly said. Even If Jefferson was a complete bastard to him, he was Belle's angel and, much to Gold's distaste, the father of her child.

She shrugged. "It's still unbearable though."

Could he be arrested for sweeping a pregnant woman away? He wouldn't get far in this town.

"I'm sure he'll lighten up when," he winked, "_he_ comes along."

She bit her lip to suppress a giggle at their secret. "God I hope so."

He pressed a hand to her shoulder and looked straight into her blue depts. "If you need anything," he stated, his eyes flying to the awaiting Jefferson for a second, "come and find me, and I'll be there." There was something in her expression he almost didn't catch. She looked away and whispered she had to go. He restrained himself from running after her. If things were different, if life was fair, he would marry Belle and raise her child with her whether it was Jefferson's or not.

He watched her smile as she slipped into the open door of the car, Jefferson standing guard as she was safely buckled in. There was a final glare contest between them and he was gone with his Belle, not to been seen until another one of their rare trips into the town. Despite his own pain and misery, Belle was happy, healthy, and to a minor extent, free, and he would cherish that until the day they could have their moment.

What Mr. Gold didn't see though was the way Belle's uppity demeanor slipped as soon as she was in the dim privacy of the car. She wiped the tear off her cheek as she struggled not to break down.

Jefferson watched her out of the corner of his eye as he started the car. He knew this was killing her, that being with him instead of the man she was truly in love with. But she had the one thing he wanted in the world and wouldn't even consider letting her go until it was in his arms. They had discussed the subject of Belle's detection once the baby was born. She could leave the baby with him and he would grant her a divorce with visitation rights. She could live a life she wanted with the man she loved and still have a part in her baby's life, but she wouldn't relent. A baby needed its mother the first stages of life and wouldn't leave her flesh and blood, even for her true love. Not to mention Jefferson was as insane as they came, good father or not.

They pulled into the driveway and he was at her side in a second.

"I can get out of a car on my own." She stated gently.

He closed the door behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Don't want to risk it dear."

Belle sighed. She had had enough. She twisted from his embrace and set a gap between them. "We need to talk."

He froze dramatically before turning around, smiling icily. "Okay then sweetheart," he slammed the door shut, "let's chat." He sat on the top step and patted the space beside him.

Belle gulped but took the seat beside him carefully. This was the behavior she had told Mr. Gold about, hinted about really. He had the most bipolar moods she had ever seen in a person, not to mention the most violent.

He had hit three times since they had been together. The first time was when he led her out of the hospital and she panicked with all the oddities around her. He had to slap her to still her and punch her stomach to knock her out. She had let it slide without an apology. The second time was when she regained her memories and she had screamed bloody murder at him for lying to her. When she made the unfortunate remark that she was leaving, he slapped her hard enough to send her flying into a wall and cracked her nose. He had spent three days apologizing and holding onto her tightly. She stayed with him even though her heart yearned for another. The third time was when she found out she was pregnant and ran off to find Rumpelstiltskin before she told him. He had dragged her through the house by her hair when she returned and locked her in the basement for several hours before he got the whole story. He had been oh so careful with her since then, feeding her the best of meals and rubbing her in her sore places and keeping her contempt as much as possible. But his actions weren't entirely out of his love for her, but for their unborn child, his child.

How is it possible to replace your firstborn? Maybe that was exactly what he was trying to do, or perhaps he was trying to start over, keep his family together in a world without magic.

"You're smothering me." She stated after a moment. "Nothing is going to happen to me or this baby."

"Did you not here what I said to the imp?" Jefferson hissed. "I have to protect you," he groped her stomach, "both of you!"

"There's a slight difference in protecting and imprisoning Jefferson!"

He grabbed her shoulders and somehow had her on her feet and against a wall in a second. "Darling if I wanted to, I would put you in the bedroom and never let you out."

She shook her hair away from her face, trying to keep her eyes from revealing her fear of his threat.

He glared at her, his hands tightening on her arms. "But then again, I would be like that monster, wouldn't I Belle?"

"Rumpelstiltskin's not the monster here Jefferson, you are!"

He pulled her to him to the point where she could feel the stickiness of his flesh on hers and slammed her back into the wall.

She gasped and held her breath as she felt her child move inside her.

"I'm the monster Belle?" he leered, that insanity she had come to fear glowing in his eyes. "Tell me Darling, am I the one who took you from your friends and family to work in some moldy castle for the rest of your life?"

"He didn't take me I volunteered-"

"Did I flip out when you kissed me and throw you into a dungeon for three days before tossing you out into the streets?"

"That was-"

"And moreover, Belle," Jefferson hissed, pressing against her, "Am I the one who didn't even bother to try to save you when I knew good and damn well who had you?"

Her tongue froze the response she had.

He smiled. "Exactly." He removed the extra weight off of her and examined her miserable exterior. He slid the tip of his finger under her chin and made her meet his eyes. "I haven't hurt you like he did, have I Belle?"

Belle managed a glare. "No, but you're hurting me in your own special way."

He frowned at her and released her harshly. "Why can't you realize that I'm just trying to protect you?"

"Protect, or control?" She gathered just enough gall to stand up to him, just the way she had stood up to Rumpelstiltskin all those years ago. "I love you Jefferson. Not the way I love Rum, I admit, but enough to not to walk out of here with-"

"If you think for a second you'll leave this house with my daughter just so you can end up with that bastard, you're wishing on a well."

"You're the bastard." She retorted.

"Don't make me hold you to that Darling." His grip tightened. "And another thing; I love you, not as much as I love Gracia here, but enough not to grab you by your pretty locks and throw you out the highest window in this house.

"You're just insane enough to do it."

He shrugged. "Love makes us do horrible, regrettable things darling, ask your dear Rumpel."

"I hate you." The words slipped out. It was a buried emotion she had kept rooted for the last six months. But since they were throwing insults in the air, why not let it out.

He chortled. "I know, I know baby." He sang soothingly. His hand went to her stomach, unmoving. Wordlessly, he placed a kiss on her forehead and let them wonder down her neck and jaw until he was at her ear. "If he loved you, he wouldn't have made you worthless." He turned to the house. "I hope our daughter isn't as stubborn as you."

Belle took in a deep breath. "Son."

He stopped. "What was that?"

She gathered her courage. "Son. We're having a boy."

He stared the same way Mr. Gold had, the question of how she could know such a thing in his eyes.

"I just know." She stated with a shrug.

He looked away, pain seeping into his features.

Belle wished she could take that statement back—God she wished she could. She had taken his one hope, his last shred of happiness, crushed it into dust. She felt no better than the evil queen, maybe even worse.

He left her on that note, leaving her to bleed, bruise, cry, whatever she wanted. Except leave. She could never truly be free.

She counted her blessings, what little ones she had at that. Jefferson wasn't superficial like Gaston and valued her opinion like farmers valued rain. He treated her as an equal, even if he did lose it sometimes. He kept his promises, unlike a certain ex-lover of hers. She thought odd that he hadn't made a promise to never touch her again; he probably couldn't keep it any way.

He loved her, in his own sick way. And in the back of her mind, the part of her that didn't remember Rumpelstiltskin and the bond they shared, loved him as well, madness and all.

She slid to the ground, pressing a hand to her belly. The child inside her squirmed, almost as if he was trying to say that she wasn't in this alone. Rumpel wasn't here, and Jefferson would never truly be. At least she had him, her beautiful mix of insanity and perfection.

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_I am a MadBelle Shipper all the way. Sue me RumBelle Shippers! 17 more days! (obsessively watches new Promo)._


	2. Pure Madness

She was happy for the first time since their argument two days ago. Her father had just visited and they had had a very heartfelt talk about Belle's future as well as baby matters that included a baby shower sometime after _his_ birth.

Jefferson's heart still clenched each time he thought of having a son. It wouldn't be the same as it had been with Grace. He and his beloved Alice had everything ready for a girl: a name, a room with butterflies, and an assortment of pink toys that Jefferson had worked on into the night to create. But with Belle and her _son_, who he loved but resented, he couldn't think of a single title for their son, he could only stare at the white walls he was going to have to paint dinosaurs or rocket ships on, and he had ripped and burned all the creatures he had tried to create for him.

He watched her wash up the tea dishes, her humming rising over the sound of water. She wasn't just singing because of her good mood, she was singing because the baby inside of her needed a song to fall asleep to.

_Their_ child.

He tried not to stay sour at the idea for long. There was always this charm about her that made any dark feelings he had melt away. So yeah, she had stomped on his pride and spat on the one hope he had of having a daughter again, but she was still the Belle he had rescued under Regina's nose, the shy girl who had kissed in thanks on their first night under the same roof, the girl who excepted his proposal of marriage with tears of joy, the woman who whispered his name into the night on several occasions, the beautiful angel who loved him and their baby despite all threats and worry.

But at the moment, he still detested her.

Belle paused when she saw her husband stop beside her and roll up his sleeves, picking up a drying rag to dry the tea accessories with.

"That was a nice gift you're father left." Jefferson commented in reference to the ironic little pink dress Moe French had gifted a very pale Belle.

Belle stopped her scrubbing and closed her eyes to calm herself. "Yes." was all she could think to reply. She then added, "I can't imagine where he got the idea that his grandchild was to be a girl. He couldn't have possible noticed the jittery man raiding every store in Storybrook for pink accessories fit for a girls bedroom. Couldn't possible have."

He allowed a few seconds of silence to pass through them before picking up the butter knife Belle had washed. "Yes," he hissed, "What a very stupid man."

Enough games.

Belle glared at him, still threatening even when she was six and a half months pregnant and elbow-deep in suds. "We can burn the damn dress Jefferson."

"That would be very impolite." Jefferson growled, fisting the knife tightly. "I sure the man had to surrender a months rent for that garment and all the while knowing that your dear Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't give two shits about his reasons."

Belle gasped and bit back her sob.

Seeing her weakness lessened the anger in his heart only slightly. "But I'm more than certain when he sees it on his grandson that it'll all be worth it." he slammed the knife down, catching Belle's jump with glee. "After we dye it blue, of course." He walked up behind her, making sure their arms brushed against each other. His arms circled her pregnant belly, his palms rubbing circles into the material. "Peach can work in a boy's room, right?"

Belle turned in his arms, staring at him with unsure eyes. Jefferson had a habit of teasing her in the most cruel matter. His eyes seemed sincere though. Almost.

"You're…"

He kissed her forehead, smiling with confliction. "It's still our baby. Why would I ever hate something of yours?" He got down on his knees and pressed his ear to the belly swollen with six and a half months worth of their child, his thumbs creating circular patterns in the fabric of her dress. "Without good reason of course?"

She ran her fingers through his hair and tried to simulate some sort of smile. His caresses were once so much more loving when he thought _Gracia_ was inside her. She had been too concerned over Jefferson's sanity that she hadn't thought of any names for her son. She hoped she could persuade Jefferson to let her name him after Rumpelstiltskin, or perhaps Rumpel's son; that'd be the ultimate comfort.

Jefferson stood and stared into her Dresden eyes filled with joy and hope. He knew instantly she was thinking of Rumpelstiltskin; she never held that kind of light for him. On that note, he pushed her against the sink and pressed his weight against her—against the baby.

"Jefferson!" she gasped. "Stop-please!"

He pressed his knees into her thighs and grabbed a fistful of her hair and arched her neck to meet his eyes. He wanted to yell at her, slap her, hurt her, but something caught in those orbs of hers caught him off. He would have her eyes. The baby inside her would be a copy of his mother. How could love something like that-of the woman who betrayed him by loving another?

He released her, too sickened to deal with her anymore. "I'm going to pick up the paint." He growled as he stormed to the door. "Keep the doors locked and get some rest," He glanced back at her with a half smile, "we couldn't want you to have an accident, now would we?"

Belle's heart jumped. He wouldn't-would he? She crept slowly after him, a protective hand on her belly. "You're a monster Jefferson."

He paused, the door opened halfway. "I know." There was no use in denying it. He was a monster who loved and greatly hated the woman carrying his child—a child that couldn't fill the heart of the daughter who he lost.

The door closed and Belle went as far to still her breathing to listen for any sounds of his departure. She heard the roar of the car engine and finally the rushed scrapping of gravel against tire for there was the sound of utter silence, signaling that she was free from madness for just a while longer.

And she was going to take advantage of it.

She shot upstairs as fast as she could with the extra weight and locked the door to her and Jefferson's bedroom as she searched the closet for a suitcase of some sort.

"Okay Baby," she whispered with undertone franticness as she began to put a few things in the suitcase, "we're going to take a little trip to your Uncle Gold's. Don't worry, he only seems scary. He's a good man and will protect your mommy no matter what your daddy does."

She turned to the dresser to grab her hair brush and stopped when the site of the golden band on her finger caught her eye.

…_Belle sat at the table sipping on a cup of tea, dried tears causing her face to itch._

_The door to the kitchen opened and Belle held her breath as a hand brushed her shoulder._

"_Hey." Jefferson greeted with remorse. He was much underdressed, going as far as to go without his scarf to reveal the deep scar on his throat._

"_Hi." Belle retorted with a forced smile._

_He sat across from her and grasped her currently fingerless hand. "I'm so sorry Belle. It's just-I-I thought you were leaving. If I'd known that-"_

_She squeezed his hand. "It's okay Jefferson." She reassured. "I should have told you first." Her free hand crept to her thigh. "It's only right for the father of their child to know first."_

_His eyes lowered at the mention of the baby. Most men rejoiced at the news that they were going to be fathers, after freaking out of course. But Jefferson had reacted by throwing his beloved down a flight of the stairs and leaving her in the basement all night before he asked an explanation of why she had been with Mr. Gold of all people. She had told him the news and his heart had not stopped screaming since._

"_Are you okay with this?" she gulped. "I know…the very idea of children…have been a very sore discussion since…" she stopped at the twist of pain on his stolid face. _

_Grace, or Paige as she was known in this world, had died a mere week prior to Belle's rescue from the Storybrook asylum. She had left the world due to a careless event that only peer pressure from a group of very idiotic freshmen could bestow. Jefferson had been watched through his telescope, as he always did when ever his cursed little girl was nearby. _

_He had watched as she had steadied herself on one of the sides of the Toll Bridge, her small arms offering her little assistance as she struggled to resist the sharp winds and walk the twenty feet of concrete without plummeting into the icy river below. _

_Jefferson had only to watch five seconds before he racing through the woods, screaming her name, her real name, for her to stop. _

_He had dived into the river after her when she had swayed off the bridge into the very rivers that killed her in seconds. _

_He had carried her tiny body to shore; begging her to stay awake as she horrified teens ran into the town for their parents. _

_He had kissed her frozen body over and over again as she died in his arms. _

_He had cried for days until he gathered the thread of sanity to find Belle._

"_Yes." He answered with a weak smile. "I think my heart can handle this one more time."_

"_Jefferson…" _

_He stood and pulled her chair out so that he could crouch in front of her. "I miss her Belle, so much that I could scream." His shaky hands squeezed hers and Belle could make out the tears ringing his bloodshot eyes . "So in a way I need this. I need my little girl." He hugged her around her middle and pressed his ear against her stomach. "I need to be a dad again."_

_She hugged his shoulders. "Then you will." She lifted him enough so that she could wipe the tears off his cheeks. "We're going to have a baby, dad."_

"_We're going to have a baby, mom." he gasps._

_This was the Jefferson she knew. The one filled to the brim with hope and love and overflowing with it. She would gladly ease his pain of his and have this baby if it meant keeping him like this. He deserved this small bit of happiness._

"_Hey," he spoke after a moment, "I got something for you." He dug around in the faded jeans he wore before pulling out the golden band with a modest-sized diamond attached to it she hadn't put on that morning after she discovered the startling news of her pregnancy. _

"_I know I'm not truly the man you love." He stated as he rubbed her hand. "But I do love you Belle, and I swear I will be a great father to our baby." He slipped the ring on her finger, deciding her fate for her. "Please stay?"_

_She didn't have a choice. She was carrying his child and he was bearing his broken heart out to her._

"_Yes." _

Other images flashed before her eyes of the man she cared so much about. She saw him setting up _Gracia's_ room, deciding on which animals would go where and where all the furniture would be located. She saw him swinging her in the air as she revealed the beginning bulge of their baby. She saw his lips wonder down her body, giving a moment of attention to the bump of four months before returning to her lips. Gods she missed that man. She wiped her eyes and proceeded to pull a few things out of the dresser. She looked up to straighten her hair and could have died right then and there.

There Jefferson stood, leaning against the door with his arms crossed—a gun poised ready to fire.

"Going somewhere darling?" he spoke so casually as if he were asking her what she was reading.

She couldn't move, didn't have the gall to move. She could only stare at the black orbs that would slowly transform to red once they started talking again.

"J-Jefferson…"

He pulled the gun out and pulled the trigger, nailing her in the shoulder.

She howled with pain and fell against the dresser, knocking several items off before she hit the ground. Her immediate concern went to supporting her stomach as she hit the ground and not to stop the gush of blood exiting her wound.

He crouched in front her, smiling as if it were a normal situation and not an attempt at murder. "Sweetheart are you alright?" he soothed with laced concern. "You're looking a bit…messy. Such unsanitary conditions aren't right for a mother to be."

She stared up at him, wide eyed and panting as each labored breath sent a spiral of pain down her arm.

Seeing that she was not going to answer him, his charming smile faded and he grabbed her by her injured arm and yanked her to her feet, causing her to reverberate so loud that his ears began to ring.

"You," He spat as he all but dragged her down the stairs, "need to learn a lesson or two about loyalty."

"Jefferson," she screeched, "you're going to-"

He snarled and shot around, his fist colliding with temple. "**And **how to shut the Hell up when you need to! God Belle are you trying to wake the baby?"

She gripped the banister as a form of resistance, however the pain shooting through the bullet hole of her opposite arm prevented her from fighting much. He was leading her towards the basement, the last place on earth she'd ever want to be. Last time he "punished" her, she had spent three days down there without a morsel of food and only drops of water she savaged from a leaky pipe as her water source. There was no way in Hell she'd survive that long while she was living for two.

"Jefferson please! Think of the baby!"

That only seemed to infuriate him further for the slide his hand up to dig into the ever flowing hole in her arm. They reached the kitchen, Belle was just a moment from passing out. Jefferson threw her against the sink as he searched through a drawer where he kept the skeleton key hidden, leaving the dying woman mere seconds to come up with a plan. Her hopeful eyes instantly fell on the knife Jefferson had embedded in the counter barely a hour ago-

When he was still sane.

Her head was spinning from blood loss and reaching for that knife was like running a marathon. But she had to protect herself and her baby, had to sustain Jefferson. Her shaky hand gripped it. She might as well have been lifting thirty pound weights with the amount of effort she put into picking up that knife and hiding it into her dress.

The door swung open and Jefferson turned to her, staring down at her pale form. He extended his hand for her to grab. "Come with me." He ordered in a softly gruff manner.

Perhaps it was the loss of blood or the unconquerable fear that gripped her like death, but something caused Belle to burst out laughing, and then sobbing. This was exactly how they met; the irony was in it. The first time he took her hand, he was offering her life and a slim chance of happiness. Now, he was offering to lead her down the stairs instead of throwing her down them.

She gripped the knife all the tighter as he lifted her from the floor and forcefully led her to the stairs. She was shaking and crying and hating him and loving him and wanting Rumpelstiltskin and wanting her baby to know what kind of loving man his father _could _be. She wanted so many things yet would only get them with one action.

"Forgive me." She sobbed, bringing up the knife and impaling it in his chest as he turned to yell at her. A shriek caught in his throat and he had to release her to gain some kind of balance. The blood from his wound poured quickly and the couple watched in memorization as it pooled around Jefferson's shoes. He looked up at her in awe at what she did.

"That," he growled as his astonishment faded into hate, "is not good influence for the baby." He ran forward with the intention of breaking her neck in mind, however a higher power was fighting for the broken mother and her child. Jefferson slipped on the pool of his own blood and fell back, tumbling repeatedly down the steps.

Belle cringed with each bump. She felt like screaming when the silence echoed around her. She had little time to embellish it however for a thick pain ran up her abominable and she could feel the baby inside her move.

"No," she sobbed as a generous amount of blood poured down her legs, "please baby hold on."

Despite the fatigue and shaking she felt from the abuse and blood lose, she slurped up every ounce of adrenaline she could manage in order to fight for her life and drag herself up the stairs.

She barely had the strength to close the door and crawl to the phone that had been knocked to the floor in her and Jefferson's early struggle. Her head was spinning and her tongue was dry and she couldn't feel the baby kicking any longer.

"No…please please please baby move." she caressed the bulge that once brought her many pleasant hours of laughter and cooing. Now there was only pain and a stream of blood oozing down her thigh. She sobbed hopelessly and angrily.

"No no no!" she screamed. He couldn't be gone; her beautiful mixture of insanity and perfection.

Damn Jefferson, and damn herself for not running when his madness reached it's climax! There might be a chance if she could just get her head to clear up enough so that she could make out the numbers on the glowing pad. She cursed herself for not taking mental notes when Jefferson had gone over the directions of the phone in detail months before.

She could remember the emergency number right off the bat and began to dial the number. She was shaking so hard now that she could just barely make out the sound of the ringing that signaled that she would soon be safe.

"_911, what is your emergency?"_

Belle was ready to scream her response but felt a sickeningly hot fire fill her throat and she had to place the phone down so that she could release it. A red mixture that smelled like blood left her body and she fell on her side in exhaustion.

"_Hello…is someone there?"_

She had never noticed how glossy the light from the windows made the wooden floors appear.

"_Hi."_

"_Mrs. French? What on earth are you doing here?"_

"_I'm…well…I know that…you and Jefferson have had a few bumps…but…I really think he'd want you to know…that…"_

"…"

"_I'm pregnant!"_

She smiled in salty remembrance. Oh how bright and sad his smile had been!

"_Congratulations…"_

"_Mr. Gold…are those tears?"_

"_Sorry dearie…I just…congratulations…"_

If she had had her memories then, she would have known that those were tears were of hurt. God she had been so blind!

She was blind now by small black dots and white streaks of light that didn't want to leave her to die in peace. She focused, with what little she had, on his face. Her golden Rumpelstiltskin, her charismatic Mr. Gold.

Her eyes shot open and the visions faded. She turned her tired, pale face to the side and reached weakly for the phone. She could make out the mechanic operator's voice and wondered bitterly how the phone companies could allow that depressing tone to be the last thing someone ever hears.

She pressed the dial and began clicking the numbers to the man she wanted so badly. The ring was a comfort. She wasn't able to save her husband or her child, but she could at least say goodbye to the man she truly loved.

A thumping sound caused her to turn and she had just enough time to gasp before she caught site of a ghost.

"You," Jefferson growled as he kicked the door closed, locking it with a click, "are a terrible mother." He held up the bloody knife formally embedded in his chest. "And I'm going to spare our child from being raised by your hands!"

The phone fell from her hand.

.,,..,,,…

The phone rang, an event that was more than common for midday. He allowed the required three rings to blare through the shop before he gave the wretched machine a moment of his precious time. Sighing, he brought the device to his ear.

"_Mz….Ol…..el….."_

Mr. Gold's eyes fell in a confused expression at the static-filled line. "Hello, who is this?"

"…_He….Lp….."_

Gold sighed, ready to hang up when a crash broke through the static, and then a sound that was glass clear.

"_Rumpelstiltskin!"_

His body went entirely numb at the sound of his old name. "Who the Hell is-" he stopped to hear the shouting over the feminine sobbing and buzzing.

"_Get over here!" _lowly echoed a loud voice.

Gold strained to listen, trying to despiser the screams from the static. "If this is some kind of prank…" a loud echo caused his eardrum to go numb.

"_You bitch!"_

Screaming and cries of pain and torment rang through his head. He should put the phone down, lock up, and go home and pretend he hadn't heard any of this. Yet, he was drawn to the feminine wails and beast-like grunts slowly plaguing his mind.

"Hello? Damn it who is this! What's going on?"

There was an utter silence after that, and for a moment, he heard nothing but clean, flawless silence. He thought then that it was indeed a prank; that some teenagers had put the phone up to the speaker of a horror movie perhaps and were relishing in their stupidity.

But he couldn't put the thing down. He was shaking. That voice, those screams, even while trembling with static, were so familiar.

Suddenly there was a moan, a simple cry, and then the sound of something moving, being dragged.

"Hello?" he spoke again. He leaned against the counter and dug his nails into the smooth wood, leaving crescents as a sickening thought came to him.

"_Well darling let's see how far you get with two broken legs."_

Cold. All he could feel was cold. He knew that voice, knew it like the back of his hand. And more horrifyingly, he knew who was associated with it.

"Belle?" he whispered half-hopeful. "Is that you?"

There were footsteps then, calm and steady, and another burst of static.

"_Sorry," _the voice spoke cheerfully_, "wrong number."_

The line went dead, and so did Mr. Gold's blood.

"No…No wait!"

Those were her screams. She was in trouble, calling for help, and he…

"Belle! Belle! Belle answer me!"

He knew the other voice, knew it like a bad headache. Anger flew through him as he reminisced on all the times he had trusted the slime-coated words that had fallen from it, the false promises and half lies.

He pressed redial and hoped he could quickly get to the bottom of this.

_We're sorry, the line you are calling has been disconnected, please hang up and try-_

Mr. Gold hung up quickly, picking the device up and hurling it to the wall. His head was spinning. That bastard! He knew from day one that he should have never trusted him. But when desperate souls seek a leader in times of anguish, anyone would do. At one point, Regina would have been a more sufficient choice then…

He popped his neck roughly and preceded to retrieve his cane, walking as calmly as his quirky nerves and turning stomach would allow. He turned the sign and locked the shop, pausing. He didn't think of the man whose throat he wanted to tear out. He thought of the girl he had strayed him from. She was out there with a baby on the way…shaking…fearful…and what he heard, bleeding, and he had spent months trying to ignore it.

Not this time.

She remembered! How long and how she had obtained the memories he would have to find out later. Right now he had to take out Jefferson if it meant cutting out his heart and liquidating in a blender. He had to get Belle away from that mad man before he-

Hissing, he drove his curled fist into the wooden door and stalked to the sheriff's department, leaving the shattered glass behind.


End file.
